The Life We Once Knew

Tug of War

History is written long before any of us live it. Fate holds the pen and writes our stories long before they unfold in real time. It was destiny for The Beatles to become a studio band. If they didn't, I don't want to know what would happen.

It was impossible for anyone to live through what they were living through. From the way they were treated by security guards and theater staff alike to the screams of rabid fans, The Beatles were doomed from the start. The 1966 World Tour only served to hammer the nail deeper into the crack, ultimately severing the board.

Paul had to see it. He needed to see how they were in danger, and how it would only get worse. They were standing on a cliff and there were only two ways to go; plummeting over the edge or wandering through an unfamiliar path across the mountaintop. Either Paul watches The Beatles fall apart beneath his very nose or he consents to becoming a studio band.

"He's got to understand," John muttered, "He's thick as steel, there's gotta be someway to make him understand."

I exhaled through my nose, "He's a stubborn arse, just like the rest of ye."

"We're all stubborn arses, that's why we're such good friends," George added.

"Exactly," I snapped my fingers, "It takes one to know one, and it takes one to make another understand."

John lifted an eyebrow, "What're you gettin' at, Mel?"

"Simple, Paulie needs a push. The truth needs to slap him in the face and leave love bites on his neck."

Ringo snorted, "Mel, you sure have a way with words."

"Thank you, Ringo, but that is besides the point," I replied, "Paul already knows that touring might kill all of you, but he needs to do more than know it, he needs to feel it."

"Christ, Mel, will you get to the bloody point?!" John flung his hands up.

I smirked, "I'm gonna scare him into submission."

"How?"

"We'll go out," I replied, "Paul, me, and Vera. I'll take us somewhere we're bound to get spotted by fans. We'll get roughed up a little and, when we come back, Paulie will want to become a studio band."

"Brilliant!" John exclaimed.

George lifted an eyebrow, "Why you and Vera? Why not the rest of us?"

"Because, as much as he loves you lads, we're his family," I replied, "I'm his little sister and Vera's his baby niece. It'll scare him more if he thinks we're in danger, that's just how Paulie is."

"Mel, you're a bleedin' genius," Ringo grinned.

"Ringo, you flatter me."

John clapped my shoulder and smiled, "Macca's a pushover, he'll come crawlin' back and practically beg us to retreat into the studio."

"You forget, he's still a stubborn arse."

"Ah, but you've got a thick head. If anyone can convince him, it's Amelia!"

John tapped the top of my head for emphasis. I shoved him off and sneered, "I'm not sure whether to be complimented or offended."

"Both," George confirmed.

"When're you lot gonna leave?" Ringo asked, glancing out the window.

The sun was slowly setting. Soon, we would have to sleep so we could be on time for our plane the next morning. It was the perfect time to sneak out undetected, at least, undetected by Brian.

"Right now," I replied, "I'll go get Paulie and Vera."

John ruffled my hair, "Mel, you're bloody brilliant."